Rigor Mortis Online

I never understood why it was that the devil was in the details.
In a cosmos defined by details it leaves very little room for a god.
Details based upon details based upon details.
Fissures made of fissures.
Communities composed of units.
Units composed of communities.
Numerical infinity.
An overwhelming truth.
A storm in which we dare to advance.
Individuality intact. Nametag in check. Ego engaged.
And it is not until we reach the eye of this truth that we truly become…overwhelmed.
With each educating step, we are lost within its rampage of detail.
Its violence weathering our reach,
shedding our skin.
Daring us to sacrifice with each step.
First our flesh, next our muscles, then our bones,
until all that‘s left is naked nerve.
And then, at the moment in which we are nothing more than the sparking neurons of the thoughts that marched us here to begin with, we are presented with our prize.
The truth that fought against our advance with such fervent opposition….
Never opposed us at all.
How could it?
Storms don’t oppose.
Minds do.
Minds protect their details,
Storms consume them.
And it is in this false duality that we play the devil.
As the storm continues its detailed whirlwind dance through the cosmos, we can see, with squinted eyes, that our march for truth was not in vain, and simultaneously not extrinsic.
Look closely and you can see a new devil in the details.
No longer opposed, but a part.
Lost amongst a material dance so elegant and beautiful, it would be a crime to leave unseen.
And so we need a mind.
To be grown, to protect, to seek out, and finally become
The devil in the details.
Adrian Bobb